iDeal
by JadeSelena
Summary: Aftermath of the finale. Spam. Mentions of Seddie and Creddie. Rated T for suggestive themes but fairly mild otherwise.


**Hello, all! Merry Christmas and happy holidays :)**

**So I don't know what the call is for Spam on here but they were my first iCarly ship (however inappropriate) and I figured I'd show them some love now that Seddie has blown up. If (for whatever reason) you're not a fan of the pairing the story is not overtly Spam but the pairing is suggested/anticipated.**

**Please bear in mind while reading this that I haven't seen any episodes between iToe Fat Cakes and the finale so some things may be off canon.**

**If I owned the show/characters the last two seasons would have gone much differently...**

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The quiet scrape of metal on metal echoed through the apartment, breaking into Spencer's uneasy slumber. Once his still-groggy brain placed what the sound was (and who was _making_ it) he let his head fall back to the pillow and closed his eyes. Reopened them a second later when the stealthy steps he'd expected were replaced by a loud bang and then a stomping on the stairs. Running a hand through mussed hair he donned a pair of pajama bottoms before following the clamor to his little sister's (usually) vacant room.

Sam was in the process of tossing the last of Carly's girly crap to the floor when the door creaked open. "I didn't mean to wake you up," she grumbled by way of apology, taking in the elder Shay's semi-dressed state and disheveled appearance.

It had taken Spencer weeks to even notice her late-night visits – the only sign she'd come and gone a lighter fridge – so he had no doubt it was the truth. And it kind of worried him… "Everything okay?"

"_Peachy_…" She flopped onto her back, feet up on the headboard, to glare at the ceiling.

He was going to take that as a 'no'… "Want to talk about it?" he invited, sitting at her hip.

She really _didn't_, but seeing as she'd disrupted his sleep he was probably entitled to know _why…_ Waving a dismissive hand she told him, "I got into a fight with my mom."

"_Again_?" At least now he knew _why_ the stomping had sounded so familiar…

Sam linked her fingers behind her head and gave a disillusioned click of the tongue. "She's home, isn't she?" At that point the only question was how _bad_ it would be.

"What about this time?" It could have been anything from who ate the last toaster waffle to the wanton destruction of each other's hopes and dreams… Sometimes Spencer thought she would be better off if her mother stayed away entirely.

Avoiding his concerned gaze Sam lifted her elbows in a makeshift shrug. "I got picked up for shoplifting." It was actually pretty tame compared with the _rest_ of her rap sheet but not everyone shared that opinion…

Of course she hadn't seen fit to _lead _with that… "Sam, you know if you ever need…"

"I didn't _need_ to," she interrupted, detecting a hint of guilt in his tone. "It was pantyhose and air freshener." The last thing she wanted was him blaming himself for something _she'd_ done.

Spencer's brow furrowed, thoroughly confused. "What? _Why_?"

Sam shrugged again. "I was picking up my mom's prescription at the drug store and thought 'why not?'" It really wasn't any more complicated than that.

That she was falling back into old habits didn't worry him as much as the fact that she'd gotten caught; it meant either she'd _wanted_ to be or (best case) just hadn't cared she _could…_ "Sam…"

"I didn't come here for a lecture, Spencer." She'd already gotten _two_, Pam's hypocritical rant markedly less effective than Franklin's composed disappointment.

It was too important to just let go so he switched tacks. "Freddie says you've been avoiding him…"

"I'm not _avoiding _him," she immediately denied, closing her eyes so he couldn't read anything in them. "It's just been awkward since the break-up. And without the ties that bind…" Well, there was just no reason to suffer through it anymore.

Spencer rolled the words around on his tongue until he found a phrasing that _wouldn't_ make her feel judged. Careful to keep his tone neutral he posed, "So it has nothing to do with the text to Carly he sent you by mistake?"

Sam flinched before she could stop herself; covered with a wry, "For someone so tech savvy he sure has a crappy track record with texts." And for someone so _smart_ he sure was quick to overlook _Carly's_ track record…

"With a phone that _big_ you'd think he wouldn't have any trouble," Spencer added jokingly, trying to evoke a smile. He got a grimace instead.

"Yeah. _You'd think_." If she didn't know better – _know_ they were past him constantly throwing his love for Carly in her face – then she'd probably question whether it had been a 'mistake' at all.

Despite the flat delivery (or maybe because of it) he nudged her ribs with his knee. "You okay?" He was upset _for_ her so he could only imagine how _she_ felt about it.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Yes, she'd considered them getting back together but with the push of a button that hope had died an immediate and irrevocable death. "We tried, we failed. Time to move on." Or in the nub's case: _backwards_.

"Moving on isn't always that easy." He knew from experience.

Sam opened her eyes to meet his. "I'm not surprised, okay?" Hurt and betrayed and _pissed_? So much that she could barely breathe sometimes. But _surprised_? "It's always been Carly. She's his 'Samanther.'" It was her own dumbass fault for deluding herself into believing it could be any different.

_Samanther?_

"Don't pretend you don't watch _Days_," she scoffed, outlining his vacant expression with an accusing finger. "If you'd had something better on the DVR I wouldn't have gotten hooked." Watching bad things happen to _other _people had turned out to be strangely therapeutic.

_Oh._ Spencer belatedly got the reference, thinking it a cruel joke of fate that her perceived fictional nemesis would have her name. And if Carly was Sami that meant Freddie was… "And his Elvis impersonation just got funny…"

"You're welcome," she told him, forcing a smirk. "I'm thinking about making him use a British accent whenever I'm around…"

Spencer's smile was equally phony. "Does that make you Nicole?" Even though his sister had next to nothing in common with the indomitable Samantha Gene the same couldn't be said of Sam and her counterpart; both morally grey firecrackers who'd grown up rough and survived by acting tougher than they really were. As scheming and reckless as they were loyal and fiercely protective.

Sam had only meant to highlight the depth of Freddie's obsession – not her place on the outside of it – but it wasn't an unfair comparison; she _had_ after all let herself fall for a guy she knew could never truly love her… "I'd like to say I wouldn't pull half the crap she has but I've never had a very healthy respect for the law. Or, you know… what's '_right_.'" And lately it had been getting the opposite of better.

It bothered Spencer to no end that she would automatically (and _only_) relate herself to the character's flaws… "I was thinking more of the way she always gets back up," he clarified admiringly, "no matter how many times life knocks her down."

_It's the hard knock life… _Sam was getting tired of getting back up; she felt like one of those weighted punching bags and she was starting to lose her spring. "I thought I'd be dealing better, you know? I'm the independent one. The vicious lone wolf. But now I just feel…" She trailed off, certain her voice would crack if she continued.

When she didn't finish the thought he gently predicted, "Alone?"

_Empty. _Like she'd lost what little she'd had left. Like her second family (the only one she _had_, really) had been ripped away from her along with the only thing she'd ever been _good_ at… Giving him a sad smile she conceded, "Something like that."

This wasn't the kind of meltdown Spencer was used to – her eyes glossy, voice willed free of emotion – and he doubted she could be distracted with a little mocking or the appearance of something shiny… "You're always welcome here, Sam," he promised, lying on his side next to her. "No 'ties' needed…"

She turned to give his chest an artificially playful poke. "You're just saying that because you know no lock can keep me out."

"Not true…" Somewhere along the line she'd become a permanent fixture in the Shay household (in his _life_) and he hadn't realized how much he actually wanted her there until she just _wasn't_ anymore. Had realized since that it was certainly more than he _should_… "I'd give you a key if I thought you'd bother using it."

His intonation told Sam _how_ she chose to enter wasn't the issue but how _often_… "Well, I have to satisfy my criminal tendencies _somehow_," she played dumb, swallowing the shamed lump in her throat. "I've been informed the next time I get in trouble it's for serious: do not pass 'go,' do not collect two hundred dollars." Franklin had had to call in a favor just to get _this_ time swept under the rug, what with the 'youthful indulgence' excuse not working for her anymore.

Spencer was both relieved and disappointed that she hadn't picked up on the subtext. "Look at it as a clean slate; no more record to hold you back."

Just because it was all sealed up didn't mean it didn't _exist_. Unfortunately that maxim applied to more for her than just a juvenile record… "Now that we've poked and prodded _my_ inner demons…" Turning onto her side she mirrored his position to study him. "How are _you_ doing?"

"Good," he fibbed, pretty sure she was less interested in _his_ feelings than she was _done_ talking about her own. "Busy working on a new sculpture."

Sam lifted an unimpressed eyebrow. "I taught you to lie, Six-pence; I know your tells…"

_Or not…_ Thinking the idea of violence might cheer her up (or at the very least sidetrack her) he mock-indignantly recapped, "'Cause you tried to literally _beat_ them out of me..."

And despite her best efforts he _still _read like an open book. Or maybe she was just familiar with the story… "It's okay to miss her, Spencer." Sam _wished_ she didn't. Wished she could _hate_ her, actually; but Carly was Carly and if Freddie wanted to play willing victim this go round it was no one's business but their own.

Accepting that she wouldn't be deterred Spencer sighed, "It's not just Carly." Of course he was sad his little sister was gone (even if he wasn't too happy about what she'd done _before_ she'd gone) but it wasn't her absence that bothered him so much as the _void_ she'd left… "I thought you guys hanging out here without her was weird, you know? But it's even weirder now."

Sam knew she was responsible for the rift; hid her guilt behind a patronizing, "_Aw_… you getting all sentimental on me, Schmoopy Spice?" Pretending nothing had changed had been too painful – at least for her – and it hadn't taken her long to stop dropping in. After that what had remained of the group kinda just fell apart.

"I guess I just got used to having you guys around," Spencer shrugged. As much as he'd bugged them about never being at their own houses what he _missed_, more than anything, was the sound of laughter (or arguing) that used to greet him whenever the door opened. Now the apartment just felt empty.

The nonchalant act was ruined by his wistful tone. Sam could have told him he was the only reason she still visited at all; that when it got bad she came to where she felt safe. It wasn't that she thought he could protect her from anything (he could barely protect _himself_ most of the time) but because… well, she wasn't exactly _sure_ why and she'd bared her soul enough for one night, anyway… "Look at the bright side," she offered, giving him a forced grin, "At least we're not around to torpedo your dates anymore."

He'd never had any trouble torpedoing his _own_ dates. Not that it had been a problem lately… "I haven't really been in a dating mood."

Sam put a palm to his cheek and pursed her lips in exaggerated sympathy; 'tsk'ed, "She would want you to move on…"

_Smartass._ Spencer held her hand in his just briefly before depositing it on the mattress. "It's not _about_ Carly…" He probably shouldn't have argued but he didn't want her thinking the world revolved around his sister. And the thought that his romantic life _would _was more than a little gross.

"Then what?" She'd been joking (okay, _mostly_) so the vehement denial had piqued her curiosity.

"You." Her face scrunched up in confusion and Spencer lost his nerve; explained it away with a teasing, "What happens if I'm 'entertaining' and you decide to pop in?" Reassuring her she wasn't insignificant was one thing; outing himself as a pervy old man another entirely…

Sam would be lying if she said she hadn't thought he was going somewhere else with that. Or that she wasn't mildly disappointed she'd been _wrong_… "I live with my mother, Spencer; I've seen and heard things that would make Caligula blush."

_Ew._ And also, "_Who_?"

"No idea; it's just something I heard once." In a place he most _definitely_ wouldn't approve of her having been… "Point is I'm not easily shocked. So as long as you don't mind having an audience…"

"Uh…" He didn't even begin to know how to respond to that.

The uncomfortable look on his face almost made up for him making her feel like an idiot. _Almost_… "Relax, Spencer; it's not like I said I'd join in. I'm not much of a sharer…"

It suddenly hit Spencer that he was in his little sister's bed with her best friend, half-naked and talking about (alluding to?) sex… "This is incredibly inappropriate."

And yet highly _entertaining_… Leaning into him she dropped her voice to a sultry whisper. "Now if I didn't _have _to share…"

Spencer jerked away so fast he rolled off the edge of the mattress to land on the floor with a '_thud!_,' sharp pain shooting through his posterior. "_Ow_!"

Sam didn't know why she'd said it – couldn't claim it was _just _to see if he could blush any brighter – but she really hadn't expected such a strong reaction. Wondering if she should be offended she deadpanned, "You okay down there?"

"Yup. Great. I, uh…" Standing up he brushed imaginary dirt from his pants; tried to regain some sense of dignity. "…I think I'm gonna go back to bed." He knew she was just testing her boundaries (she always _was_) but it was less a game to him than unintentional cruelty.

"Sure you don't want to take a cold shower first?" She pillowed her head on her arm to watch him make his escape. "Might help with the bruising…"

He turned to find her gesturing to his (_not_ flat) butt, eyes sparkling at her own wit (or _his _embarrassment). "He doesn't deserve you, you know?"

It took Sam a second to recover enough from the non sequitur to lift an impish brow. "'Cause I'm 'incredibly inappropriate?'"

"Because you're incredible," he corrected softly. _Truthfully. _"If he can't see that…"

Sam blinked at him; released her trapped breath to murmur, "You're not so bad yourself, Spencer Shay…" Normally she would include 'on a good day' to diffuse the chick flick moment but just this once she'd make an exception.

He stood in the doorway – holding her steady gaze – until it bordered on creepy. "See you at breakfast?"

"You mean lunch?" she teased, knowing full well he was _really_ asking if she was planning on sticking around that long. Touched that he _cared_.

Her genuine smile was a victory all on its own but Spencer hadn't gone to law school just to learn how to give up. "Promise I'll get up before noon if you say yes…"

Sam countered with a cheeky wink. "Promise me breakfast in bed and you won't _have _to..." It was win/win: she shared his distaste for getting up at a (so-called) respectable hour _and_ she had a profound (perhaps _dangerous_) love for eating lying down.

"_Deal._" Mentally berating himself for the images that had popped into his head he shut off the light. "Night, Sam."

Her eyes followed his silhouette in the partial darkness. "Spence?"

He froze in place, afraid she'd somehow guessed his impure thoughts. "Uh… yeah?"

"_Thanks_." The list of 'what for' was lengthy (and awkwardly mushy) so she left it at that, hoping her tone had conveyed what she couldn't bring herself to.

Spencer didn't know what to say – everything that came to mind either too cheesy or too revealing – so he settled for a sincere, "You're welcome…" Closing the door behind him he headed back to his own room; found himself looking forward to morning for the first time in a long time…

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**I know it's short and not really 'Spam,' per se, but I think it's more realistic this way. If anyone is interested I have a follow-up chapter, much racier and definitely earning an 'M' rating, in mind. Just for fun ;)**

**BTW, I would imagine they're all graduated by the end of the series but in my head Franklin will always be Sam's surrogate dad and look out for her. Don't burst my bubble.**

**Thanks for reading!**


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